


The Devil can Cite Scripture to his Porpoise

by Daegaer



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angels, Bible, Demons, Gen, Interpretation, Reading, translations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-03-30
Updated: 2005-03-30
Packaged: 2020-06-09 14:39:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19477981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daegaer/pseuds/Daegaer
Summary: Crowley recounts a bad day's work.





	The Devil can Cite Scripture to his Porpoise

"And _then_ , after the Jehovah's Witnesses fled in defeat, I went out to get a nice spot of lunch and got buttonholed by evangelists right on the doorstep of the restaurant," Crowley said, pulling his dessert out of angelic arm's-reach. "I told them I was less interested in hearing about the Lamb that died for my sins than I was in hearing about the lamb that died for my lunch, and ended up having to explain in great detail and words of very few syllables indeed exactly why their textual interpretations were so incredibly wrong-headed."

"Oh, dear," Aziraphale muttered, seeing whole new vistas of repair work open out before him.

"Oh, stop looking so tragic. I was purely factual and truthful in what I said. I can cite Scripture to my purpose, you know. It's not _my_ fault there are so many stupid people in the world."

"It's the translations," Aziraphale said in annoyance. "Some of them are so hideous. Honestly, I don't know why people can't dedicate a few years to learning the original languages, it would make things so much easier."

"It'd make our jobs easier, you mean," Crowley said, scooping up the last of his orange sorbet before Aziraphale got away with another spoonful. "Anyway, who wants to spend ages learning some boring old language?"

"Who wants to have to depend on something like the Good News version?" Aziraphale said grumpily, ordering a single espresso.

"Heh. Yeah, that's one of mine," Crowley sniggered.

Aziraphale glared at him and changed his order to a large Irish coffee.

"Dinner's on you, then."


End file.
